August 7
The Tunnels – 1245 Hours

Another mission from London has popped up (for us to find out, for them for provide this time, if you want to call it that) and so we thought and assumed, as the message said, that it has to be another ammo dump, the one that the bombers were suppose to get last night, but couldn't because of the storms. The Krauts, those demons, shot most of them down, and out of the ten in formation, only three limped back to England alive. The rest of the pilots are dead, or possibly captures and being sent to us (in that case, we'll get them on their merry way soon enough).

Kinch Baker transmitted the message. Originally, it had been static and Baker had tried to receive the message, he only got this message as Rob listened in on the headset (and every one of us heard it over the headset): "Hogan…have your men…ammo dump…storm blew away plans and the Germans shot down seven of our ten planes…grab the…at the Monowitz camp…and…destroy…"

After that, all Rob had had heard was static in his ear. I knew it was static, for he winced and tried moving the headphones from his ear. He needed to hear the message (whatever it was). Baker, in seeing this, tried improving the signal or tying to receive the message again, but it was for naught. Rob sighed and put the headset down. It wasn't even in code. It was a straight-forward message and a risk to us if Hochstetter and his Gestapo goons were listening in.

"What does this mean?" LeBeau asked, puzzled.

Baker still continued to get the other side to respond as he took the headset, but Rob silently put his hand on his shoulder, indicating that he stop. Baker obeyed and put the headset, which he took from Rob, down and shut off the power, probably knowing all-too-well of Rob's concerns and those worries that everyone never says: the Gestapo.

Since the message was not in code, then there must be something underhanded about it, and that was what Rob voiced. "London usually sends their messages in the new code they developed and this one isn't in the usual code. They know that this is a major risk, mainly with the Gestapo constantly monitoring messages being sent to and from Germany. That was why they started it in the first place."

"Worse, this is jumbled up," I added quickly, "which remains another mystery. London and the Underground usually have clear messages sent to us and vice versa. We know that the bombers didn't get that ammo dump last night because of the weather…"

"So, maybe the jolly 'ld London wants us to 'et it," Newkirk interrupted.

"Perhaps," I said, the rusty wheels of my mind starting again, "but what if this is another trap?" I heard a collective gasp before someone spoke up, and this time, it was Baker.

"You're suspicious about this Colonel Michalovich," Baker said with respect. I sighed, remembering that I was trying to get Baker to stop doing that. I don't mind all the pomp and circumstance of being a colonel (I never even knew why I was promoted to such in the first place, but always liked to compete with Rob over rank when we were younger) but I do wish that the men here would speak to me like a normal human being, much like Kinch did.

Please stop thinking about Kinch all the time. Baker is another man; don't judge and compare him! I thought as I answered the dubious sergeant…and Rob, as a matter of fact. He crossed his arms, as if demanding an answer, and waited for me to support my theory. "Well," I started out sharper than I had wanted to, "for one thing, all the Nazi spies in England know our codes if they worked successfully within the Allied Command. Our secret mission to that ammo dump was secret – note that I said was – and the only way for someone in the Kraut side to have found out is when there is a spy. And then, there's that message. Now, why would High Command want to send us a message and not bother to put it in code?"

"London and the Underground are cautious as to whom they send messages to," Rob continued for me as if he was suppose to, "and always send their messages in code lately. We are also always informed when they decide to change the code."

"Then why would the spy send it like that?" LeBeau asked.

"It could be a cipher in and out of itself for the Nazis," I said, "and the confirmation they need that we work as an operation here. We could fall for the trap and do what it said to, destroy the ammo dump and do that rescue mission it suggested. It's a theory." I shrugged my shoulders. "Someone at Headquarters could have been sloppy and hasty in their message, but I doubt it. Nobody in their right minds there would transmit that, not even someone new. They would have been trained carefully."

Rob was impressed with my theory, for usually he does the thinking for the both of us and this time it was me who came out with what probably has happened. He unfolded his arms from his chest and said, "The Colonel is right. Headquarters in London, and the Resistance and the Underground for that matter, wouldn't be that careless. The Nazis could have a spy there and that spy might be sending us a message and using the static –"

"As a ruse to get our signal and an excuse to find our operation," I interrupted stoically, not all revealing what I feared most of all: yet another Gestapo takeover of Stalag 13. Although I knew that Hochstetter and his gang of goons were still recovering from their little incident with Vundel (who, by the way, was standing trial for crimes against the Fatherland, and also the disappearance of Webber, and has been sentenced to death). I and anyone else here wouldn't put it past them to try it again because of suspicions.

There was silence before Carter, for the first time, spoke. "Colonel, what i-is Monowitz?" Both Rob and I turned to Carter, but none of us can say what Monowitz was nor did we know who Carter was addressing, but most likely it was Rob.

Either way, I don't know if Rob knew, but I couldn't speak it out loud. The Shadow is there; he took so many lives I cannot begin to count the ways he did it. Monowitz, of course, is a part of Auschwitz, and I believe that it was the largest part of it. If we really had to grab somebody there, then the Nazis meant business or they mean to trap us. And I, for one, will never go back there again, unless it was under the circumstance to save another or the whole. I will never send anyone there. If there was another rescue mission to undergo, then I will go, and I will go alone.

I spoke some of my thoughts out loud to Carter, and more generally, to the others too. "Monowitz is another part of Auschwitz, Carter." I paused, and, pondering what else I could say, almost stopped dead in my tracks, but I had to tell them. "If that was really a Nazi spy and he was transmitting something not in code, and saying something about ransacking someone there, then it could be a trap. Any one of us could go there and be stuck there dead if we're not careful."

"Then the 'atter is finding our spy," Newkirk said.

"If there is such a thing there," LeBeau added.

"Exactly," Rob said, "so we need some people to head up to cheery, old England and infiltrate where our spy and stop their business."

Rob's words did ring truth in them too: we need to find our spy and have him, or her, eliminated from this game. This was why I volunteered for this mission, and with many reasons I might add. Of course, everyone argued against it, save Baker (who most likely didn't understand the uproar anyhow) and tried to dissuade me of this idea.

After I silenced everyone, I sighed and looked at Rob, giving him my most defiant stare, the one that always made him laugh. Rob kept a poker face (he was getting better at doing that every time, and it infuriates me sometimes) and said, "Colonel, it's a dangerous mission."

I grinned and replied, "Danger is my middle name."

LeBeau, Baker and Newkirk laughed and Carter was confused. "Why would 'Danger' be a middle name?" he asked. "I mean, I c-can understand if it was a guy's name for a gal's middle name. Now, it could be a Louise, or a Sue, or even –"

"CARTER!" the five of us said in unison. Even Baker was annoyed. He learned quickly of Carter's childishness and his lack of common sense, the latter I'm finding a better description of our best explosives person.

Carter did shut up, as everyone else did, and listened to my reasons why. "Well," I said trying hard not to giggle because of Carter, "for one thing, I know High Command in England and its ground systems better than everyone of you here. And don't argue with me about it," I growled at Rob as he was about to protest. "It's true. Nancy and I were given the opportunity to view and memorize each participant in the operation. We were also given ample chance to be intergraded in the organization and we became part of the system, much more so than here at Stalag 13. That was a reason why I was hesitant in joining the operation here at Stalag 13, because if I was captured and tortured on one of these insane missions, I could have easily given out all the secrets to the Allies' operations, old as they are and possibly changed anyhow. Plus, if any of you were told by me all of these plans, the same could possibly happen to you, and when you didn't mean to either."

I looked at Rob. "Colonel, moreover, the more people who come to England to weed out the spy I suggested that there was, the more suspicious the Krauts are going to be. One colonel gone, with a man, might be acceptable to Schultz just as long as there is an excuse for it, but if two colonels, or even two men and a colonel or two, went to England, then the rest could be in a sticky wicket. If the rest return too, the operation here could be well shut down and we'll be at given a firing squads' appointment, something we have to keep." I stopped, and didn't even give my final reason. This was enough to digest.

"Mad'm, who said you were going alone?" Baker asked.

"Like I said," I replied less sharply to Baker, "the more who go to England, the more suspicious the Krauts will be and the more likely our tunnels will collapse for good." I was kinder to Baker in my reply this time and I'm regretting my brusque words to him earlier; at least he was becoming a little looser with me around. But I think he was hinting at me that he wanted to come, or that he wanted an extra set of eyes for me. I don't think Rob or the others told him of my reckless behavior yet. Or they could have told him and he thinks I need one to keep an eye out for me, like I said.

"But there's got to be another reason why you have to go alone," LeBeau pressed.

"Of course there is," Rob said, rubbing his forehead because I knew he was getting a headache again. "Because the Colonel here is a skilled manipulator and can easily hit the memory banks of many spies. Having another person around could easily break her game and forfeit her plans. Because we all know the weakness of every man here is…"

"Girls!" the three of the four enlisted men said simultaneously.

The fourth man, Carter, was doubtful, and for one, thinking. "Colonel," he said, addressing me, "what if the spy happens to be a woman?"

Again, Carter was hitting on a point. I smiled and knew that I found my volunteer to come with me to England. I also knew Rob was thinking the same thing for his headache was gone and he was staring, almost as he found something extraordinary, at Carter. Except this time, I was the one who volunteered Carter, the latter of which was giving us colonels a shocked stare because we were looking back at him apprehensively.

Still beaming, I said before Rob could joke about this, "Thank you for volunteering to come with me, Carter. I know you'll do a fine job in watching out for me."

Everyone laughed, even me and Rob. Carter, however, was dubious as how he had himself chosen as helper for this next adventure. It went as far as Baker joking about it. "Are you sure you want to bring Carter?" Baker asked, still laughing, "Your mission might be going up in a blast."

Hilarity and much back-patting followed Carter, even as we all climbed back up the barracks in a hurry a few seconds later by Morrison. Roll call was announced and Schultz was searching for Rob once more. Klink wanted him in his office about the behavior of the men in Barracks 14, yet again. Their marketing deals have given Klink a headache.

Before Carter could go up the ladder though, he gave Rob the saddest face he ever created and asked, "So, I can't use the balloons anymore?"